Neither of them, she reflected, cared for the detail of life, for luxury, mere comfort. They had shed superfluity, unlike those around them, who lived for it.
"Is it all right?" he asked as the waitress slung the dishes on the table.
"Everything!" and she added: "I can telephone Ned? I promised to speak to him every day."
"Of course!"
"Now let us forget…. What a lot of people there are in the world running about!"
"We'll say good-by to them all very soon," he replied.
Their spirits rose as they ate. It was festive and joyous, even this dirty country station. The September sun was shining brightly through the window, and a faint breeze came straying in, smelling of the salt water. She had given no thought to what they would do, to where they would go. She did not ask. It was good to trust all to him, just to step forth from the old maze into this dreamed existence, which somehow had been made true, where there was no need to take thought. She pushed away her ice untouched and began slowly to draw on her gloves.
"All the way here from Bedmouth I had a queer feeling that I was making a journey that I had made before, though I was never here in my life. And now it seems as if we had sat by this window some other day,—it is all so expected!" she mused. And she thought how that morning when she got up, she had gone to her little girl, the baby Lilla, and kissed her. With her arms about the child she had felt again that her act was right and that some day when the little one was a woman she would know and understand.
Her lips trembled, and then a slow smile suffused her face, bringing color, and leaning forward she murmured:—
"I am so happy!" Their eyes met, and for the moment they were lost in wonder, unconscious of the noisy room….